Catching Fire: The Story of Effie and Haymitch
by mgowriter
Summary: A behind the scenes look at Effie and Haymitch in Catching Fire. Each chapter is a small vignette that ties directly into the book.
1. The First Time Inside His Kitchen

**mgowriter's notes**: Effie and Haymitch are my favorite characters from the books and I love them now even more after watching the movie :] Haymitch is Haymich, but when writing this, I took his physical description more from the movie.

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**Catching Fire: The Story of Effie and Haymitch**

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**Chapter 1: The First Time Inside His Kitchen**

Effie bristles against the cold winter wind as she steps out of the train, and hugs the rich, white fur coat around her tightly. She steps carefully into the antique car that awaits them, along with Cinna and Portia. The prep teams have already gone ahead of them, eager to get to work on Katniss and Peeta, and the camera crews are to follow, after everyone has been assembled.

The ride through town is short, with few things to marvel at along the way, and even fewer now that the streets are more vacant due to the colder weather. When they arrive, the Victor's Village is a welcome sight. Twelve houses are equally spaced around a wide oval that stretches two blocks long. The two nearest houses have warmth and life exuding from them, with brightly decorated exteriors and glowing fireplaces visible through the windows. The third is a shadow of the former, with no lights visible and much sparser decoration. The groundskeeper has made some obvious attempts to cheer the place up, but somehow it doesn't take.

Cinna and Portia are grinning as they part ways to see their victors. It has been six months and there is much to do, much to catch up on before the tour. Effie is left standing in her orange colored spike heels, on a small patch of pavement recently cleared of the ice and snow. She considers following them for a moment, eager to warm up from the cold, but changes her mind and heads for the third house. The schedule states explicitly that everyone must be assembled for the photo shoot at noon. She trusts Cinna and Portia to make Katniss and Peeta presentable, beautiful, and on time, but Haymitch is another matter.

. . .

The door to the third house is slightly ajar, and after three tries at knocking, Effie lets herself in. It's her first time inside Haymitch's house, although she's been assigned to District 12 for five years. She feels a ball of nerves growing in her stomach.

She wrinkles her nose against the unpleasant odor that greets her, and steps carefully through the messy debris of the large entryway. She reaches the kitchen and is immediately greeted by an overpowering smell of alcohol, so much so that it burns her throat. Effie sees the splattered glass on the floor and the recently spilled liquor. She sighs to herself. He must be more drunk than usual. Haymitch would never waste liquor like that.

She clears her throat.

"Haymitch?" she says hopefully. If he threw the bottle, then he might at least be still awake.

She tries again, louder this time. She hears footsteps after a few seconds, coming from upstairs.

"Look," Haymitch starts to speak before he enters the room. "I said I'll be ready, didn't I? That means you don't get to—"

He stops midsentence, as he looks up from the towel he's holding and realizes Effie is standing in front of him.

She gasps involuntarily when she sees him. Haymitch stands in his bare feet, bare chest and arms, and wet hair that has been carelessly combed through with his fingers. The only thing that he's wearing is a white towel, wrapped around the lower regions of his waist.

His expression turns from irritation to bemusement.

"Well hello, Effie. I didn't expect you so soon."

Effie is speechless for a few more seconds, until she forces herself to take in a deep breath.

"Haymitch," she begins with eyes now closed. "You're wearing nothing but a towel. And you're dripping….all over the floor."

Haymitch smiles as he walks toward the kitchen table. "Haven't you heard, Effie? It's the new fashion for winter. That…pumpkin color you're wearing? It's _so_ last fall."

Effie's eyes open instantly. "That's not true. This was designed by Ariel Yvento."

"Who?" Haymitch asks as he rips off a piece of still-warm bread from the loaf on the table.

"Ariel Yvento. She's the most famous designer in the Capitol!"

She catches his grin as he moves to the pot of the stove and pours himself some coffee.

"You're making fun. Of course."

"I'm sorry Effie," he laughs. "I meant no harm."

"Aren't you cold?" Effie asks, watching him swallow the bread in practically one bite and take a swig of the coffee.

"When you're as fit and muscular as I am, you don't even notice the winter."

He pauses a few seconds for effect, before taking a drink out of the closest liquor bottle.

"Just kidding. I've got my own portable heater right here." He takes an even bigger drink before setting the bottle down.

Effie sighs in a mixture of exasperation and disgust. "Just make sure you're ready by noon. Outside. And dressed appropriately!"

She turns to leave, aware of Haymitch's eyes following her. Despite the cold, and the snow that's leaving watermarks on her shoes, Effie allows herself a grin as she first makes her way to Peeta's house, and then Katniss'. In all the years she has been an escort for District 12, she has never seen Haymitch in such a good mood. Maybe he's finally happy to have a victor, and two at that, after so many years of mentoring. And the comment about staying warm…well he did have an okay build, for someone who spends the majority of his days consuming alcohol. She lets herself picture the strong lines of his arms once more before she forces herself to clear her mind. Whatever's gotten into Haymitch, it can only be a good sign.

Effie is genuinely happy when she sees everyone assembled inside the house, and she clasps her hands for quiet.

"Attention, everyone! We're about to do the first outdoor shot, where the victors greet each other at the beginning of their marvelous trip."

She sees the frown on Katniss' face and turns toward her. "All right, Katniss, big smile, you're very excited, right?"

The cameraman outside cues for Katniss and Effie, sensing her reluctance, gives her a healthy push outside the door. It is the official start of the Victory Tour.


	2. When Danger Looms

**mgowriter's notes**: Slow day at work :) This chapter references pages 61-64 in the hardcover version of Catching Fire.

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**Chapter 2: When Danger Looms**

"…but I feel as if I did know Rue, and she'll always be with me. Everything beautiful brings her to mind. I see her in the yellow flowers that grow in the Meadow by my house. I see her in the mockingjays that sing in the trees. But most of all, I see her in my sister, Prim."

Even though they are watching Katniss through a TV screen, Effie, Portia, Cinna, and Haymitch can see the emotion in her eyes and hear the trembling in her voice.

"Thank you for your children," she continues, looking up to address the citizens of District 11. "And thank you all for the bread."

. . .

Effie has tears in her eyes. Katniss' speech is beautiful and touching, and more than that, it's perfect. People at home will be watching and weeping with the rest of the crowd. Katniss has finally pulled through, and the long hours of coaching are paying off at last.

Effie blots at her eyes with a tissue. She looks up with a smile, but is surprised to see Haymitch's brows furrowed deeply in a frown. His body is tense, and his attention doesn't leave the screen.

Someone from the crowd whistles Rue's simple mockingjay tune, one that has become so familiar since the last Hunger Games. Effie catches just a second of the crowd's reaction before there is a flicker on the screen and the image turns to static.

She feels Haymitch's hand around her arm almost instantaneously, pulling her closer to where he stands. The urgency in his grip is enough to scare her.

"What is it?" she asks.

He doesn't answer, but he's looking around them, noting the positions of the Peacekeepers that have moved imperceptibly closer since the screen went blank.

"Haymitch?" she whispers, sensing her heartbeat quicken.

They hear a faint boom outside, and his grip around her tightens. His body leans toward the stairs, as if ready to pull her away and run, but there's nowhere to go. They are in a rotunda surrounded by white uniforms from all directions.

"I think that was gun fire," Haymitch says in a low voice.

"Gun fire?" Portia repeats, the anxiety unmistakable on her face.

Katniss and Peeta appear through the door before he can reply. Their expressions are equally tense.

"What happened?" Effie asks.

She takes a step toward the victors, but Haymitch's hand is still wrapped tightly around her forearm. She has to physically remind him with her other hand before he finally relaxes his hold. Even so, his fingers linger for a second on her arm before he lets her go.

Peeta exchanges a look with Haymitch, but his voice is steady whey he says, "Nothing happened, Effie. An old truck backfired."

Effie shakes her head. Peeta is not a good liar; he never has been. They hear two more noises outside that remind her of thunder. They sound much louder and nearer than the one from before, and they are undeniably gun shots.

All eyes turn to Haymitch, who has his own trained on the nearest pair of Peacekeepers. They are alert, but not panicking. The building has gone into lock down, and they know they're safe inside.

Haymitch pauses to consider his options. Time is running out. He desperately needs to speak to Peeta and Katniss alone before the Peacekeepers change their minds about letting them wander around freely.

"Both of you, with me," he says shortly.

He turns to Effie and gives her a look that does a poor job of masking his worry. There is something else in his eyes; something she can't quite decipher before he blinks and it's gone.

"Stay here," he instructs firmly. "You'll be safe with Portia and Cinna."

"I…of course," Effie replies, unable to formulate the question running through her mind.

Haymitch nods, and she doesn't get another word out before he's half way up the marble stairs, leading Katniss and Peeta away from the group.


	3. Sleepless Nights

**mgowriter's notes**: Inspired by page 72 of Catching Fire.

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**Chapter 3: Sleepless Nights**

Effie closes the door to her sleeping compartment quietly. Tiptoeing toward the dining room, she stops to take a peek out of the nearest window. The first gray lights of dawn are seeping up from the horizon. The train hums along at more than three hundred kilometers per hour. They are due to arrive in District 2 by midmorning.

She walks past the dining tables to the small bar at the end of the room. After a moment's hesitation, she picks up one of the stemmed glasses and pours from a half-empty bottle of wine, left over from the previous night's dinner.

Effie takes a sip from the glass, sets it down, and sighs to herself. "Wine before sunrise. You're turning into Haymitch."

"I'll say," Katniss' voice startles her from behind.

"Katniss!" Effie turns around. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I should ask you the same thing," Katniss replies.

Effie looks down at the wine glass and sighs again. "It's harder and harder to sleep through the night. The stress of the tour, I guess. I'm glad we only have two districts left before we reach the Capitol."

Katniss nods, but her thoughts are elsewhere. Effie is aware of the heavy bags under her eyes. The way she nervously crosses her arms tells the whole story.

"Nightmares again?" she asks gently.

Katniss doesn't answer her right away. She picks out a tall glass from behind the counter.

"Did you take one of the sleeping pills?"

"They don't work," Katniss says briskly. She pours water into the glass.

Effie's expression softens at her words. Everyone on the train has heard the screams coming out of her room, night after night, like clockwork.

"I'm glad you have Peeta. You two are good together."

Katniss looks up from her glass.

"The cleaning crew tells me Peeta's sheets have hardly been touched. His room is the easiest to clean in the mornings."

Katniss considers her words for a moment, as if weighing something in her mind. "We're in love, aren't we? You can hardly blame us." There is a pause before she continues. "I guess we can try to be more discreet about it, for the benefit of others on the train." Katniss places her empty glass on the counter and turns to leave. "See you at breakfast, Effie."

. . .

Effie is about to leave the dining room herself when she hears a peculiar sound in the next compartment. It can only be coming from Haymitch's quarters. He makes sure to have the one closest to the bar each year.

She inches closer. A tormented moan comes from the other side of the door, followed by sounds of distress. Haymitch says something inaudible, and then a loud "No!"

Effie jumps back from the door. She puts her fist up to the metal surface, but pulls it back at the last second. What if Haymitch isn't alone in there? What if someone's trying to harm him?

She quickly runs through her memory of the previous day. It was an especially stressful day for Katniss. Her ingenuity in setting off the bombs that protected the Careers' pyramid of supplies directly resulted in the boy tribute's death from District 3.

Haymitch seeks out one of the past victors, a nervous man named Beetee, and disappears for the rest of the day. She doesn't see him again until they are all back on the train. In fact, he is the last one back, and even late to dinner. Haymitch leaves the table early, saying sarcastically that he doesn't want to miss the excitement of District 2 in the morning. He did look more haggard than usual. What if…he's ill?

Having made her decision, Effie pushes open the door. Her eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness, but she sees that Haymitch is the only one in the room. He's asleep in bed, but the moaning continues, and it's obvious he's having a nightmare.

Effie kneels at the side of the bed. Haymitch's features are twisted in a look of torment. His forehead is wet with perspiration. The sheets are damp with sweat. She whispers his name and reaches out to shake his arm.

A forceful hand grabs her own the second she makes contact. She startles back, then realizes that it's Haymitch. He has her pinned to the bed before she can react. The knife in his right hand is centimeters away from her throat.

"Haymitch," she inhales sharply. "Haymitch, it's me."

. . .

The sound of her voice is familiar, but he doesn't yet trust the divide between dream and reality.

"Don't. Move," he says to the figure underneath him, maintaining the position of his knife. His breath is laced with alcohol. He has been drinking for most of the night.

"Lights, dim," he says again, this time to no one in particular. A second later, the lights in the room glow at quarter strength.

Forcing himself to shake off the remnants of sleep, Haymitch looks down at his captive. It takes him a few seconds to recognize her. Effie Trinket, in a silk night robe, without the makeup, the wigs, the ostentatious clothes of the Capitol. She's beautiful. The dim lighting illuminates her blond hair, highlighting its natural waves. Up close, the lingering scent of her body wash reminds him of fresh strawberries picked from a field. Her blue eyes are a mixture of worry and fear.

"Effie," he manages to say aloud. "What are you doing here?"

Her eyes gaze downward. He realizes he's still holding the knife and withdraws it quickly.

She sits up in the bed, taking a moment to collect herself. "I heard noises. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

He frowns at her words. He's usually silent during the night, but the dream that lingers in his mind is a particularly bad one. "What was I saying?"

"I don't know," she replies. "You were having a nightmare, running away from something."

He was back in the Game, the same one that he re-lives almost every night. Haymitch removes himself from the bed. He puts five steps between himself and Effie before his back touches the wall. He doesn't want her to know, to see him like this; he's not ready.

"I'm sorry," she says with sincerity. "I should've knocked."

"Go," he says simply. "I need to be alone."

"Haymitch—"

"Go on, get out!" he almost shouts.

She opens her mouth to speak, but changes her mind. She moves silently to the door.

When she's gone, Haymitch takes a long drink from the bottle on top of his dresser. He pauses to catch his breath, only to repeat the process. He does this until the bottle is empty. When he finally climbs back into bed and wills himself into unconsciousness, the scent of strawberries is still on his pillow.


	4. Dancing in the Snow

**mgowriter's notes**: If you're following along, this chapter takes place within pages 76-84 of Catching Fire :)

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**Chapter 4: Dancing in the Snow**

To call the banquet room of President Snow's mansion a room is to call the mansion itself a house; they are anything but. The space is the grandest setting for the grandest party in all of Panem. Katniss and Peeta, the victors from the improbable District 12, the star-crossed lovers, have finally arrived on the Victory Tour. For the powerful, famous, or wealthy citizens who manage to secure their names on the guest list, it's a night they will never forget.

The "room" extends from the front gates of the mansion through its focal point, a massive central square that contains the dining tables prepared for the feast and the dance floor. Beyond that, a prodigiously sized conservatory is transformed into a lavish, outdoor garden. It's surrounded on all sides by small ponds filled with exotic fish, and even a waterfall that appears to materialize out of thin air. The water that streams down is laced with tiny golden specks that mimic the glow of fireflies when they reflect off of the nearby flames from the fireplace.

. . .

"It's really something, isn't it?" Portia asks Effie, as they're escorted inside the mansion.

Effie nods, and takes a moment to savor the scene before her. She follows Portia's gaze upward, to a ceiling that doesn't seem to exist. It's impossible to tell if they're looking at an illusion, or at the real stars above. A man playing the violin floats into their view, on top of a puffy white cloud that somehow supports his weight.

"I wonder if we can borrow one of those?" Portia asks.

Effie grins at her comment. "Leave the man alone. We have work to do."

They see Katniss and Peeta at a nearby table filled with all sorts of soups, sampling one after the other. The two victors are surrounded by a circle of fans, well-wishers, and the ever-present camera crew. Peeta waves when he catches them out of the corner of his eye. Katniss is to his left, holding a spoon in one hand, and a cup in the other. Her attention is more fixated on the dish before her than the woman who is talking at her side. After a minute of this, the woman finally gives up and Katniss is happy to return to her soup.

"Katniss," Effie says as she pulls her aside, "do you know who that was?"

"Oh come on, Effie," Katniss says in her own defense. "She was talking about her cats. Cats! Who are apparently fed a special diet to turn their coats 'periwinkle blue.' How can you expect anyone to take her seriously?"

Effie sighs. "That was Helena Rorick. She owns half of the shopping squares in the Capitol and donates a considerable amount of money to only one tribute—her favorite—each year. Remember what we talked about this morning? This is the perfect opportunity to connect with sponsors for the next Games. They can be the difference between a tribute's life and death."

"Isn't that Haymitch's job?" Katniss asks. "Where is he, anyway? He's been more drunk than usual ever since we left District 3."

Effie becomes quiet at the mention of Haymitch's name.

"He's over there," Portia says, pointing at a dimly lit area behind a large fire pit that has a pig roasting above its flames. "It looks like he's talking to the new Head Gamemaker. Let's go see what they're up to." She takes Effie by the arm and they start making their way through the crowd before Effie can object.

. . .

Haymitch, sporting a deep navy-blue tuxedo with accents of silver and gold, is fully engaged in conversation with the plump man beside him and doesn't hear their approaching steps. The other man is the first to notice the women. He promptly falls silent as they near.

Haymitch has a frown on his face when he turns around. He sees Portia, then blinks in surprise at the sight of Effie. Her evening gown is exquisite. It's made of a clear, reflective material that when viewed under the lights, makes her look as if she's illuminated by sunlight. Next to the dimmer flames of the fireplace, the fabric darkens to match the color of dusk, and the hidden orange and peach layer underneath glows through to perfectly capture the colors of sunset.

Portia clears her throat. "Haymitch, aren't you going to introduce us?"

Haymitch starts at her words. "I'm sorry, Portia. This is Mr. Plutarch Heavensbee," he says with his gaze still on Effie. "Plutarch, may I introduce Portia and Effie."

Effie is the first to break eye contact. Even though she's wearing makeup, he can see the slight blush of her cheeks underneath.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Heavensbee," she says, turning her attention toward the other man.

"Likewise," Plutarch replies.

"Portia," says Haymitch, "I've been meaning to introduce Mr. Heavensbee to Katniss and Peeta. Would you mind taking my place?"

"Not at all," says Portia. They head toward the center of the room, where Peeta and Katniss are dancing under the watchful eye of the cameras.

. . .

"Wait," Haymitch says, just as Effie turns to leave.

The blue eyes that stare back at him are unreadable.  
"Dance with me?" he asks, extending his hand.

Effie considers passing on the invitation, but there's something desperate in the way that Haymitch holds out his hand. She accepts, and it doesn't take them long to settle into a comfortable rhythm. Haymitch is a steady leader, performing the right steps with practiced ease. Effie has always had a talent for dancing, and moves even more gracefully on the dance floor. When he spins her, she floats away briefly, only to step back lightly into his arms. The nearest onlookers applaud the handsome couple.

"Where did you learn to dance so well?" she asks, genuinely surprised.

"Victory Tour," Haymitch answers, reluctant to let go of their short embrace.

Effie seems puzzled, but quickly realizes what he's saying. "You mean your Victory Tour, when you won the Quarter Quell."

Haymitch nods. "It's been a long time. I'm surprised I still remember the steps."

He's a skilled dancer, but it's soon obvious that his mind is elsewhere. He hesitates for a half-step and almost loses his timing.

"You can say it," Effie says gently, when they settle into a slower pace.

"What?"

"Whatever's on your mind."

Haymitch takes a deep breath. They move a few more steps before he begins.

"I want to apologize for the other night. I shouldn't have pushed you out of the room like that. I know you meant well." He pauses, before asking, "Can you forgive me?"

They continue dancing as she absorbs his words. In the five years that she's known him, she can't remember ever hearing him apologize to anyone. In fact, she's never seen him serious, sincere, and sober at the same time. For him to say those words means a great deal.

"You're forgiven," she says simply.

Haymitch stares into her eyes. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," she says, this time with a smile.

The music picks up and with a grin, he spins her a second time. When they embrace again, Haymitch is close enough to whisper in her ear. "You should also know…that you're the most beautiful woman at the party."

Just as he says the words, a dusting of snow falls from above. They look up to see one of the bigger clouds as the source of the tiny crystals. Effie reaches up to touch the miniscule flakes, but they dissolve into thin air. As she turns, Haymitch hears gasps from the guests around them. The snowflakes are reflecting brilliantly off of the dance floor lights, which in turn reflect onto unique fabric of Effie's dress. The effect is a soft halo around Effie's body that makes it seem as if light is beaming from inside her.

The music comes to a stop, and Haymitch, along with the crowd, is mesmerized by the sight of her. The cameramen catch on quickly and push their way to the front of the circle. Aware of all eyes on them, Haymitch settles for a kiss on Effie's hand. He hears her call out his name as he steps away from the spotlight, but waves back an excuse. He is acutely aware of two things as he removes himself from the crowd. One, he desperately needs a drink, and two, he's unequivocally in love with Effie Trinket.


	5. The Kitchen, Take Two

**mgowriter's notes**: Reading too much Suzanne Collins lately. Thinking excessively in fragments. This chapter's reference: pages 166-168 of Catching Fire :]

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**Chapter 5: The Kitchen, Take Two**

Effie stands outside the now familiar house, third one on the street, in the Victor's Village. The darkness that envelopes it is broken by the faint light coming from within. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, adjusts her clothes for the second time, and rings the doorbell. Footsteps approach, and moments later, the door is swung open. Haymitch stands within the frame. He has a genuine smile on his face.

"Effie Trinket at my door. I must've done something right today."

Effie returns his smile. She feels her nervousness dissolve. "I was worried it might be too late. I didn't want to intrude."

"Nonsense, sweetheart. You know I always have time for you."

She blushes at his words. Haymitch doesn't do it often, but when he turns on the charm, it's hard to resist.

"We just finished the photo shoot, but they want the pictures of the wedding dresses at the Capitol by morning. I thought…I'd come say hi before the train leaves."

"The one event Katniss was truly looking forward to," Haymitch says, with a hint of teasing in his voice. He motions for her to come in.

"It could've gone a lot worse," Effie says. "She's getting better at these things."

She looks around the entryway. From what she can see, the house has gone through a dramatic transformation since the last time she was here. Everything is in its proper place, the unpleasant odor is gone from the air, and a layer of dust no longer coats the furniture.

"A new housekeeper," Haymitch answers her unasked question. "Katniss' idea."

. . .

Effie follows him into the kitchen. Now tidy and clean, it's a far cry from what it was just a few months ago. He places a pot of coffee on the stove, and watches her settle into one of the chairs at the dining table. It has been four months since they've seen each other, but even in the middle of the night, with wrinkles in her clothes and exhaustion in her eyes, she is more beautiful than he remembers. He smiles at the memory of their last run-in in this very spot.

The coffee doesn't take long to fill the room with its aroma. Haymitch searches for the only pair of matching mugs in the house and pours the steaming black liquid carefully. He sets one down next to Effie, but instead of picking it up, she reaches for his hand.

He's facing away from her and allows himself to close his eyes for a brief moment, because the warmth in her touch is so unexpected. She stands and moves towards him, only inches away.

The warning at the back of his mind makes its way into his consciousness. He can't do this, for a million reasons; because she lives in the Capitol, and he lives in District 12, because she's innocent and caring, and he's a miserable drunk, because it's unheard of for an escort and a mentor to be together. Because of the piece of paper he received this morning that exists now only as ashes in his fireplace. The one with the numbers _3, 7, 11 _written carefully in degradable ink. The rebellion has started, and he's not naïve enough to think that there will be a place for love, for a life with Effie.

Haymitch isn't given a chance to speak. The first touch of Effie's lips to his sends a surge of energy through his body, and the next ignites a desire that he struggles to contain. Her lips are impossibly soft. He feels himself returning the kiss, losing control, hungering for more.

He allows himself a few more seconds of bliss before breaking the contact. "Effie," he breathes. "We can't."

"I know," she says with regret. "I have to get back to the train."

He tries to explain but she has her finger over his lips and a mischievous grin on her face. "Save that thought. It's only two months until the Games. Tell me when I see you again."

He nods, slowly. She savors one last kiss before reluctantly letting go. He watches her climb into the waiting car from the kitchen window. A second later, the car disappears from his view.

He rubs at his face, and sighs deeply. Grabbing the closest liquor bottle, he sits down at the table and pours himself a generous drink. He continues to do this, glass after glass, until the kitchen is lit with the first rays of sunrise. Hazelle, his housekeeper, unlocks the front door earlier than usual. She shoots a disapproving look at the almost empty bottle in his hand, then says something about sweeping the floors upstairs. Katniss is the second person to walk in unannounced, and for a minute he thinks about switching the locks. Instead, he suggests a walk to town, because he needs to pay the Ripper a visit. He needs a little more liquid courage to sort out his feelings for Effie, and a little more than that to prepare himself for her next visit.


	6. Reaping Day

**mgowriter's notes**: I finally figured out how the story is going to end, so yay! I've been going back and forth for a couple of weeks. Also, had to look back at the first book for this chapter. References: pages 17-21 of The Hunger Games & pages 186-187 of Catching Fire.

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**Chapter 6: Reaping Day  
**

The air is still. Not a single bird sings, nor a wisp of wind flutters. There is no relief from the heat. The humidity that clings to her clothes and lungs is stifling. Effie stands in the shadow of the Justice Building. One Peacekeeper stands on each side of her; dozens more surround the square and occupy the rooftops above. Their guns are trained on the crowd below.

The holding areas are considerably smaller this year. Katniss stands alone on the left; Haymitch and Peeta are to the right. Beyond them, in the space where the rest of the children of District 12 usually await their fates, is a wall of adults. The children have been moved to the back of the square. For once, they are safe.

Mayor Undersee does not recite his usual preamble to begin the ceremony. Instead, the guard to Effie's right signals to her that it's time. She takes a tentative step into the light of the beating sun. The concrete building behind her feels more like a prison than the Hall of Justice. The thought of what she's about to do, about the possibility of sending Haymitch back into the Games, makes her sick to her stomach. As she walks, President Snow's words repeat themselves in her mind.

_On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors_.

. . .

Effie clears her throat into the microphone. The echo reverberates throughout the silent crowd.

"Happy Hunger games," she says, lacking much of her usual conviction. "And happy Third Quarter Quell." There is a pause, but no one cheers. She can't bring herself to say the next words in the script. The odds will not be in Katniss, Peeta, or Haymitch's favor this year. Instead, she says, "Now we will watch a video presented to you by the Capitol."

The ceremony begins, as it does each year, with a video that reminds the Districts of the rebellion, the Dark Days, the return to order, and the Treaty of Treason. It is the reason for the Hunger Games. It is a reminder to the people that no one can overcome the power of the Capitol.

When the video ends, the reaping begins. The two large glass bowls that are usually filled with hundreds of names stand almost empty. Ladies first. Effie reaches into the bowl that contains only one slip of paper. It falls through her fingers and she has to grab it a few times before it's finally secured. She unfolds the paper, and states the name that everyone in all of Panem already knows. "Katniss Everdeen."

Not a sound escapes the crowd. Katniss' footsteps are hollow as they echo off the concrete steps. She makes her way to the stage, and stands at attention. Her gaze is fixed somewhere in the distance.

Effie's eyes make contact with Haymitch. The look on his face reminds her of the last time they were together, the kiss that she didn't think she had enough courage to initiate. The taste of his lips. If she picks his name…she can't bring herself to finish the thought.

Effie tries to take a steady breath. She reaches into the second bowl and feels the two pieces of paper in her hand. Which one to pick? Her fingers switch from one to the other. At the last second, they reverse to the original slip. She pulls it out, and carefully unravels the fold.

. . .

Her voice catches in her throat. The name that stares back at her is the realization of her worst fear. She closes her eyes, forces a breath in, then out. They are on live television, she reminds herself. She's not allowed to break down on stage. Slowly, carefully, with everyone watching, she regains her composure, but the words "Haymitch Abernathy" only come out as a whisper.

. . .

She looks up to see that Haymitch's eyes have never left her. Before either of them can communicate a message, a voice behind him rises through the silence.

"I volunteer!"

Peeta pushes himself in front of Haymitch. Effie blinks, then switches her gaze on him. She is sure her ears are playing a trick on her, but Peeta is walking toward the stage. In a few seconds, he stands before her and she knows what he's done. The breath that she's been holding no longer feels like it's choking her. She's relieved and terrified at the same time. Haymitch is safe. The Games have begun, but there is no way to win. Between Peeta and Katniss, only one can survive.

. . .

Peacekeepers separate Effie from Peeta and Katniss, and they are all taken into the Justice Building. She is hastily placed into a room with a thick, patterned carpet and bookshelves that line the walls; a library of sorts. A minute later, the door opens and Haymitch is crossing the room with long strides. Effie lets herself fall into his arms. She's done with the cameras, the speeches, and most of all the reapings. She's done pretending to be strong. Her tears soak into his jacket but she doesn't care. Here, in his arms, she finally feels safe.

"Effie," he murmurs into her ear. "It's okay. I'm here. We're here, we're okay."

The lock clicks from outside and the door is pushed open forcefully. Haymitch's reaction is automatic. He places himself in front of Effie.

"We're leaving," says the Peacekeeper at the door, with his gun pointed in their direction.

Haymitch narrows his eyes, but follows the order, keeping himself between the guard and Effie as they walk through the building to the rear exit. They enter a nondescript car that is occupied by two other Peacekeepers.

Effie's demeanor is calm on their way toward the train station, but the trembling in her hand gives away her anxiety. When the guards aren't watching, Haymitch takes her hand in his, and whispers again in her ear.

"You're doing great, sweetheart. Just follow my lead. We'll get to the train, get away from here, then we'll sort it out."

Effie nods. He gives her hand a light squeeze, releasing it just as the guard turns to check on them. When they arrive at the station, Effie is visibly relieved to see Peeta and Katniss waiting for them. Haymitch only stares warily at the man beside them—Thread, the notoriously bloodthirsty Head Peacekeeper. His worry is unrealized, however, when the four of them are hurried onto the train. The doors are barely closed when it starts to move, and quickly pick up speed. They are once again on their way to the Capitol.


	7. When the Masks Come Off

**mgowriter's notes**: Reference: pages 189-192 of Catching Fire.

* * *

**Chapter 7: When the Masks Come Off**

Effie sits silently at the vanity in her room. The woman in the mirror that stares back at her is dressed in a gradient of purples, from the lavender hat to the lilac earrings, to the violet dress and deep plum heels. The gold wig that she wears adds the perfect touch of warmth to the outfit, but she feels less than cheerful. The chime for dinner sounds through the speakers, then repeats itself after a few minutes. She doesn't hear any footsteps outside, in the narrow hallway of the train. She doesn't blame them; there could never have been a happy ending to the reaping.

The short tune plays for the third time, and Effie knows that it's up to her to round everyone up. She sighs, forces a smile, and holds it until it reaches her eyes. There, better. _This is your job_, she thinks to herself. _We're still a team. We need to keep morale up._

Katniss' room is the closest one to Effie's. She knocks on the door gently, and is surprised with a quick response. Peeta is next, and with his help, they're able to get Haymitch to come to the table. Despite the circumstances, it's nice to have everyone together. After everything they've been through the past year, the others feel more like a family to Effie rather than their separate roles of escort, mentor, and tributes.

The meal is magnificent and delicious, but no one takes more than a few bites of each course. Peeta is gracious enough to engage in small talk, but Haymitch and Katniss remain silent in their thoughts. When it's evident that no one is interested in the chocolate custard dessert, Effie suggests they watch the recap of the reapings.

They settle down in front of the television just as the anthem begins to play. Like the ceremony in District 12, the reapings of the other districts have been cut short this year. The faces on the screen go by quickly. Andrina and Agro from District One, Brutus from Two, Finnick and Mags from Four, Cecilia from Eight, and finally, Seeder and Chaff from Eleven.

Effie looks at Haymitch when Chaff's name is called. She knows that Chaff served somewhat as a mentor for Haymitch the year he won, when there were no mentors yet from District 12. Although the two men mostly joke and drink in front of the cameras, she knows their friendship runs much deeper than that. Haymitch remains motionless on the couch. The only sign of his anger is in the tenseness of his muscles as he clenches his jaws. His fists are closed, arms strained, shoulders stiff, but he hides all of this well. He is the first to leave after the program is over, without a word to the rest of them.

Effie stays for a few more minutes before she bids Peeta and Katniss goodnight. She walks toward the other side of the train, and eventually finds herself outside a familiar metal door. She hesitates for a moment, but finally decides on three knocks.

. . .

Haymitch opens the door, knowing that it's her. He holds a bottle of liquor loosely in one hand. A mixture of sadness and defeat consumes his demeanor. She didn't know what to expect; certainly not this. The resolute persona that he has held up through dinner is gone. Haymitch sits heavily on the bed, releases his grip on the bottle. He looks exhausted. His hands rub at his face a couple of times and run through his hair before he looks up at her.

"I don't think I'm going to be the best company right now."

Effie sits next to him on the bed. It's been a trying day, and the same exhaustion that she's been able to stave off is returning at full force.

"That makes two of us," she says.

Haymitch looks over at her and attempts a grin. He takes a swig out of the bottle.

"The perfect couple, huh?"

His comment gets her to chuckle, and uncharacteristically, she takes the bottle from his hand. She drinks long and deep from the small opening, feeling the burn down her throat and in her stomach. Effie coughs as she hands the bottle back.

"That tastes horrible," she says with a grimace.

"You get used to it," Haymich replies, taking another drink himself.

"I thought you quit."

"There's always an exception," he says, the sadness returning to his voice.

After a moment's hesitation, Haymitch takes off the jacket he's wearing and tosses it onto the floor. He looks at Effie. For a second his gray eyes flash brighter, reflecting an internal debate. He sets the bottle down for the last time, and begins to unbutton his shirt. Effie's raises her eyebrows.

"Sleep with me tonight," he says, as the shirt slips off and his bare chest is revealed. It's neither an order nor a request, but merely something that is the natural progression of their circumstance; something that is established as soon as the words come out of his mouth.

"Okay," says Effie softly, because she knows she won't be able to sleep if she is alone tonight. She takes off her own suit jacket and stiletto heels. Haymitch is undoing his belt when she disappears into the bathroom. She places her hands on the sink and stares at the reflection. It doesn't seem right. She turns on the water and scrubs the layers of makeup off her face. Her hat and golden wig come off next. _There, better_.

The lights in the bedroom are set on the dimmest setting when Effie returns. Her eyes take some time to adjust as she finishes undressing. Haymitch is already in bed, but she can feel his gaze on her. She slips in under the covers, and he opens himself up so she can curl up next to him. They fit together nicely. He smells heavily of liquor, but it's such a familiar scent that it comforts her. The warmth of his body radiates into her skin, and she finally lets herself relax, because she knows that she's safe.

"Hmm," Haymitch mumbles, already half way to slumber.

"What?" Effie asks.

"A beautiful woman in my bed, and all we do is sleep. I'm never going to hear the end of this."

She smiles in the darkness. Her lips search for his and they end in a deep kiss. "It'll be our secret," she whispers.

Haymitch mumbles something else, but his words are so heavily laced with sleep that they're incoherent. She nestles herself a little closer and they're both asleep in seconds. The dreams that come are of the future and its uncertainties, but there are no nightmares, no screams in the night.


	8. The Secrets We Keep

**mgowriter's notes**: Some love for Chaff in this chapter :] Reference: pages 213-214.

* * *

**Chapter 8: The Secrets We Keep**

The Training Center is abuzz with excitement. It is the first time that the tributes, mentors, escorts, and design teams for all twelve districts are together since the previous Games. The opening ceremonies are a success, and no one can stop talking about District 12's costumes—who knew coal could be so mesmerizing?

Effie stands beside Cinna and Portia. The other designers around them display emotions ranging from fanatic awe to austere envy.

_Good_, Effie thinks to herself. _Envy is good. Envy means sponsors. Sponsors mean…a chance. A better chance._ She puts on a bigger, more dazzling smile. They will be perfect this year. They will have the most sponsors, the best, and they will win. Because the alternative is unthinkable.

Dahlia, the escort from District 11, approaches Effie with her clicking heels.

"That was amazing!" she says as she nears. "Everyone had their eyes on Katniss and Peeta. All of Panem is going to be talking about their costumes tomorrow! Cinna and Portia have done it again."

"Thank you, Dahlia," Effie says. "I hope so."

"Oh who are we kidding? The sponsors are going to be fighting for your tributes this year. Just you wait and see."

Effie smiles. Dahlia is probably the most universally liked escort. She finds a way to make friends with everyone that she meets. She is the main reason that District 11's tributes always last at least a few days into the Games, despite coming from a relatively poor district. She even convinced the sponsors to prepare a gift of bread to little Rue from last year, but they were too late in sending it.

"Oh look," Dahlia says with excitement. "There's Capala from District 5. I have to go say hi."

Effie nods. "Go ahead, I was planning on heading upstairs anyway."

Dahlia gives her a sympathetic smile. "It's been a busy day for all of us. You must be exhausted! By the way, you wouldn't mind taking Haymitch along with you, would you? He's been monopolizing Chaff the whole night and we have some serious planning to do!"

"Not at all," Effie replies. "I'll find him before I leave."

"Thanks Effie, you're a real treasure." Dahlia flashes her another smile and flits off to intercept one of the other escorts.

. . .

Haymitch and Chaff are engaged in a discussion that stops as soon as they see her approaching. Effie remembers thinking that the absence of their usually loud and boisterous joking is a nice change for once, before Chaff catches her by his good hand and twirls her around in a full circle.

"Miss Effie Trinket. I didn't think it was possible for anyone to look more gorgeous but you surprise me each year. How are you, darling?"

Effie blushes at his words. She knows for a fact that he says that to all the women, but he makes it sound each time like it's the first time he's ever professed his love. Few people know about the charm that he can easily switch on and off.

Chaff has a muscular build and stands at equal height with Haymitch, but he is almost a decade older. His dark, olive skin contrasts against the hair that's graying along the edges, and only serves to distinguish his look. His brown, intelligent eyes stare into hers. She wonders if any woman has resisted this man before. In his youth, he could've won every one of them over from Finnick.

"I'm fine," Effie says, releasing her hand from his. She automatically steps closer to Haymitch. "What have you boys been up to?"

Chaff smiles easily. "Things only becoming of victors, of course. Planning the Games. Figuring out how long I'm going to survive with your Katniss and Peeta in the ring, now that I'm a tribute again."

His last sentence touches a nerve in Haymitch. Chaff catches the small change in demeanor and doesn't miss a beat.

"Haymitch thinks it's unsuitable to talk about one's own death in such a candid manner." He turns toward Effie. "What do you think, darling? How long do you think I'll last?"

"I —"

"Don't answer that, Effie," Haymitch says. He gives Chaff a disapproving look.

Effie reaches for his arm. She knows that it's hard, for the both of them. Despite Chaff's impervious approach, he can't distract from the fact that both he and Haymitch will be losing a friend of twenty-five years.

Chaff opens his mouth to speak but the image of Effie's arm linked with Haymitch's stops him before he begins.

"How was the train ride in yesterday?" he asks instead, cocking his head to the side.

Effie and Haymitch are caught in surprise. They look at him, then at each other, both remembering the night before. She is the first to clear her throat.

"It was…fine. Yours?"

"Fine, fine," Chaff answers, his eyes still trained on them. "Dahlia was a mess, but I suppose that's what happens when people you work with are sentenced to die."

Effie nods sadly. "It's hard this year, for everyone. Speaking of Dahlia…I think she wants to talk to you about sponsors."

Chaff grins. "Doesn't she always?" He turns to Effie. "I just need one more minute with Mitchy before sending him to bed. Think you can give me that, darling?"

Haymitch rolls his eyes. He hates the nickname, but doesn't protest it this time.

"I'll wait by the east elevators," says Effie. Her words are to Chaff but she's staring into Haymitch's eyes as she says them. Where do they go from here? Who's bed does she sleep in tonight? The hectic schedule from the day has left them with only a few segmented minutes of conversation. They need to talk, sort things out.

Haymitch nods, as if communicating the fact that he hears her thoughts. She gives his arm a squeeze before walking away.

. . .

Chaff watches Effie make her way to the elevators at the opposite side of the room. His expression changes as soon as she's out of earshot.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asks, turning on Haymitch. His voice is a whisper but the intensity it holds is hard to ignore.

"What?"

"You, her," he motions with his hand. "C'mon, Haymitch, you'd have to be blind and dumb to miss it."

"It's not what you think," Haymitch begins.

"No?" Chaff responds, struggling to keep his voice calm. "Okay, then. Tell me you're kidding. Tell me this is all a joke, that you had a good time on the Victory Tour this year, got a little friendly, and now it's all in the past. Tell me you are _not_ in love with her."

Haymitch remains silent.

Chaff exhales in frustration. He lowers his voice further. "Have you told her?"

"Of course not," Haymitch responds. Their voices are the sound of breaths now, barely. Every word puts them in danger. Every word is a count of treason.

"Do you know what they're going to do to her when they find out about you two?"

Haymitch lowers his eyes. The image forming in his mind of Effie interrogated by Capitol guards is too tangible.

"She doesn't know anything," he whispers.

"They're not going to care," Chaff responds. "And they're going to take their time finding that out."

Chaff is right; Haymitch knows it and has known it all along. He's already endangered her life many times over, and for what? He's prepared to die. He knew the risks when he signed on as a member of the rebellion. But Effie…Effie is pure and beautiful, and doesn't deserve what he's put onto her. He thinks about everything that's happened in the past year, everything they've been through together, and selfishly, he realizes that he would do it all over again. Because he has finally found something in her that he's been looking for since the moment he became tribute number twenty-four of the Fiftieth Hunger Games. He's finally found something that takes the nightmares away.

He feels Chaff's arm around him and the other man's laughter brings him out of his thoughts. The design team from District 2 passes them without a second look. Their time is up, they've lingered too long.

"That's a helluva story," Chaff says cheerfully, now clapping him on the back. "You're never one to disappoint, Haymitch."

Haymitch nods, forces a grin. "You wouldn't believe the rest of it if I told you."

Out of the corner of their eyes, Seeder returns from visiting with the tributes from 10. She seems to have a sixth sense about timing, knowing when to make herself invisible and the best time to reappear. Haymitch scans the small crowd until he finds Katniss and Peeta, still standing by their chariot. He gives a short nod in their direction.

"C'mon, I'll introduce you," he says to her and Chaff.

Seeder smiles. "I'd like that."

When they near, she gives Katniss a hug that everyone knows is for Rue. Seeder and Rue had a special bond the previous year, and she was heartbroken at the death of the child. Haymitch introduces Chaff to Peeta. They exchange handshakes before Chaff throws his arm around Katniss and kisses her on the mouth. It's his last effort to draw attention away from their conversation, so whoever is reviewing the tape will stop at the image of Chaff giving the girl on fire a hard time, and not on the one a few minutes earlier, of him and Haymitch huddled together, passing whispers between them. Haymitch hopes that it's enough. He has a sinking feeling in his stomach, but forces himself to laugh along. He banters back and forth with Chaff until the Capitol attendants come to herd all the tributes away.

"Maybe Dahlia is right," says Chaff as he turns to leave. "It wouldn't hurt to strategize a little. Who knows? Maybe I can win this year."

His message is clear. Keep your mind in the game. Haymitch nods almost imperceptibly, a tiny gesture of acknowledgement. Satisfied with his answer, Chaff follows the others into the elevator.


	9. From Steam to Fire

**mgowriter's notes**: This was inspired by page 245 of Catching Fire. I tried very hard to keep the rating under M, but there is nudity in this chapter. You've been warned! Now, please enjoy :)

* * *

**Chapter 9: From Steam to Fire**

He knocks quietly at the door, in three quick raps. He's slept all of two hours the previous night, and has been pacing his room since well before dawn. Thinking about his conversation with Chaff the first night they arrived at the Capitol, about the Game, and the plan. About the secret meetings in the Victor's lounge, with the video cameras blocked and looped. Beetee's doing. About everything that has the potential to go wrong. They've been at the Capitol for five days, and for five nights he's been agonizing over this decision. But now it's made, and there's no turning back. He hopes it's the right one.

Effie opens the door and her expression relays her surprise. Haymitch is not an earlier riser. She's never seen him up at this hour, much less fully dressed for the day.

"Good morning," she says, as she tightens the white silk robe around her body. She feels slightly self-conscious, not having had time to put her makeup on.

"Morning," he replies, letting himself in.

"I was just writing a note for Katniss and Peeta. I didn't get to tell them last night about cancelling the coaching lessons today."

"They'll appreciate it," says Haymitch. He doesn't offer anything more.

Effie gives him a quizzical look. She senses his hesitation, but doesn't comment. Instead, she rings for the girl Avox.

She feels Haymitch's eyes on her as gives the Avox instructions to deliver the note. When she turns to meet his gaze, they are filled with an uneasy intensity.

"Is everything okay?" she asks.

He nods, but remains silent.

"You're thinking about last night, aren't you? Peeta's painting and Katniss' stunt with her knot tying…" she trails off, because she still hasn't been able to reconcile the events herself. No district in the history of the Hunger Games has ever received training scores of 12 for both of their tributes. It's a clear directive from the Gamekeepers. Katniss and Peeta will be the targets this year.

Without replying, Haymitch crosses the room and takes her hand in his. His hold is gentle, but firm. She questions him with her eyes, but his in turn only reply, _follow me_. He leads her into the spacious bathroom, where colorful mosaics line the walls and they step on golden tiles. A lavish sink and vanity line the nearest wall, while a wide, clear-glass shower in the symmetrical shape of a hexagon stands in the middle of the room.

Haymitch turns a small dial near the glass. Music streams in from hidden speakers, instrumental and flowing. He increases the volume until it fills the room. Steam vents at the floor of the shower are activated next, and the temperature immediately begins to rise. Haymitch looks at Effie. With the final push of a button, the showerhead from above comes to life, its flow simulating rain.

. . .

They stand just a few feet apart. The hot steam envelops the rest of the room. The walls fade away into the mist until the space between them is the only one that exists. Haymitch begins to undress himself, slowly, piece by piece, until the last article of clothing comes off and he's standing naked in front of her. His eyes have never left her face. He places a hand at the collar of Effie's robe. It slides down the fluid silk, and stops at the delicate belt. He unties it with ease. Effie lets the robe glide down onto the floor. She's wearing nothing underneath.

. . .

She trembles as the hot water droplets hit her skin, raising involuntary goosebumps. His hand reaches for her arm, traces a delicate line to the middle of her chest, and ventures downward until it wraps around her body to pull her closer. The small rivulets of water run down his face, his blinking eyelashes and day-old stubble. She watches the water trail seep onto his chest, his arms, downward still, and feels a desire that she isn't sure she wants to control.

Effie is the first to push her lips into his. They are just as she remembers, warm, wet, soft and firm all at once. The tempo of the music rises, but not enough to match the beating of her heart. It feels good to be under the pounding water, kissing and unable to breathe. She welcomes the sensation of desperation that comes with the absence of air. Her lungs begin to burn, but she continues the kiss. He responds with short, jagged kisses that are desperate in his own way. She can feel it in the way his hands roam over her body, distracted in some areas and meticulous in others. He's searching for something.

Effie presses her body closer to his, so that the majority of their skin is touching. She feels the strength of his hands holding her up, and finally lets go to breathe. His tongue is in her mouth before she can take a full breath, playing with her now, kissing lightly and passionately in the same movement. When they finally separate and she looks into his eyes, she realizes that what she's searching for has been in front of her all this time.

Panting, Haymitch brushes a strand of wet, blond hair from her face. Her lips are cherry-red from rubbing against his stubble; striking against her unblinking blue eyes. He can't help but think he's staring at the most beautiful face, the most beautiful creature in the world.

"Haymitch—" she says.

"Shh…" he whispers in her ear. He allows himself one more lingering kiss, slowly this time, waiting for it to come to a natural end, before leaning back from her.

"I need to tell you something," he says softly.

She tilts her head in question, sensing the seriousness in his tone. "What is it?"

He lowers his head, and sighs, pushing the doubts out of his mind. The decision has been made. He must carry it through.

"There is a rebellion happening against the Capitol, right now, as we speak, and I'm a part of it."

Effie talks an involuntary step back. "What?"

"I'm a part of it," Haymitch says again, "and that means…you are, too."

Effie shakes her head. Suddenly the steam is around them has become stifling and the music playing is too loud. "Haymitch, you're not making any sense."

"Something is going to happen during the Game," he says, closing the space between them. "When they find out I'm one of the people behind it…they'll come after you."

She takes a moment to assimilate the information. When she looks up, she knows that this is not a joke, nor a lie, because he wouldn't look as sick as she feels if it were.

"When they come, don't resist." He speaks with urgency now, his words almost blurring together. "They'll question you, but you know nothing that can hurt me. Tell them everything you know. Tell them that I came onto you at first and I used you. They won't do anything to you if you don't know anything."

Effie feels the breath being choked out of her. She reaches for the button to turn off the steam but Haymitch stops her. "Don't," he says. "They could be watching."

The realization hits her instantly. Of course. The shower, the music, the steam. They're they perfect guards against hidden cameras or recording devices. No one would be able to make out their conversation through the scatter. They would only see two forbidden lovers, enjoying a secret shower.

"There are people in the Capitol who are on our side." Haymitch continues. "They can help you if you get into trouble. They can hide you."

Effie shakes her head. "Was this all a lie? The shower, getting me in here?"

"No, no, I—" He doesn't allow himself to finish the thought. "Effie, you have to listen to me. This is important. There are people who can help you if you run into trouble."

"Where are you going to be?" she asks.

"I can't tell you that."

"Why? So they won't be able to torture it out of me?" The voice that comes out of her mouth is too monotonous, and upon hearing it, she wonders if she's going into shock.

"No," Haymitch says forcefully. He raises both hands to her face. "If I thought they were going to torture you, I'd take you with me, as dangerous as it's going to be. You're going to be safer in the Capitol."

"Are you going to die?"

"No," Haymitch says again. "I'm not. I'm going to try very hard not to. And when the end comes, if we get succeed and get that far, I'm going to come for you. I promise. I love you, Effie Trinket."

She inhales sharply, as if his words have a physical presence. The gravity of the situation breaks the invisible threshold that has been holding her together and buries itself inside her. The thought of losing him is the only one that her consciousness will allow. She squeezes her eyes shut to force the horrible images out of her mind, but they continue to repeat, and in every one, Haymitch is dead.

"It's okay," Haymitch say. He's holding her now, whispering calming words into her ear. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'll be okay. We'll both be okay."

The hot tears that spring from her eyes mix with the water droplets that fall from above. Although the steam still surrounds them, the only warmth that she feels is from his body.

"The last time that there was a rebellion against the Capitol, thousands of people died."

"I know," Haymitch says softly.

"And for those that rebelled, everyone was punished. The Dark Days. The Hunger Games…"

"I know," he says again.

"The Capitol has all the weapons, all the power. You can't win, Haymitch. You can't kill yourself trying to prove something—"

"I have to try," says Haymitch. "They're killing children, Effie. Not just the tributes in the Games, but children at home, who don't know where their next meal will come from, who go to sleep hungry every night. They killed my family. Everyone I've ever loved is dead, and now that I have you, I'm more terrified than ever. Because if we let them stay in power, they'll come and take you away from me one day. I have to try, because if I don't, we'll have already lost, and I can't lose you. Not now, not ever."

Effie buries her head into his chest and shakes her head. She wills the tears to stop but they refuse, instead renewing their efforts. They stand that way for minutes, holding onto each other, neither one willing to let go.

It's Effie who looks up first, forcing herself to separate from the safety of his embrace. Although her voice is shaking, her words surprise the both of them.

"Okay, so you try. Help the rebellion. But be smart, stay away from the fighting. You're the best strategist I've ever seen. You'll do the most damage by planning the battles. And you come back to me." She stops to make sure she has his full attention. "Promise me you'll come back to me."

"I promise," he says. The embrace that they fall into is a mixture of affirmation and desperation. Haymitch holds her tightly against him, unwilling to let go. They both know that despite his words, there is no guarantee of life or death.

"There's something else that you should know," says Effie, when they finally break apart.

"What it is?"

"I love you too, Haymtich Abernathy."


	10. Chasing the Storm

**mgowriter's notes**: Last chapter! I just wanted to say a big thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this story! I loved reading all of your comments and reviews. I set out with the goal of writing on a regular basis with a weekly deadline and I'm happy to say it worked out better than I expected :] Weaving a story for Haymitch and Effie while sticking to what was already written in the book was a challenge I really enjoyed doing. Thanks again for reading! This chapter's reference: pages 253-260 of Catching Fire.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Chasing the Storm**

"A mockingjay, I think," says Katniss in answer to Caesar Flickerman's question. She examines the flowing sleeves of what was once her wedding dress. They are now covered with smoldering, black and white feathers. "It's the bird on the pin I wear as a token."  
The shadow that falls across Haymitch's features mirrors that of Caesar's. The audience may not know the full meaning of the mockingjay, but Haymitch, Caesar, and thousands of others in the districts are well aware of what it symbolizes.

The camera pans to Cinna as Haymich turns to Effie. They stand just offstage, watching everything unfold on a TV screen.

"Did you know he was going to do that?"

Effie shakes her head. "No," she says sadly. "They won't let him get away with it, will they?"

Haymitch regretfully gives a small shake of his head. It is an open act of the rebellion. Cinna, now bowing to an audience full of exuberant applause on their screen, will pay the price for what he's done.

. . .

As Katniss returns to her chair, Peeta takes the vacant seat next to Caesar. They settle into an easy back and forth that allows Haymitch to relax his stance. But when he breaks the news to Caesar that he and Katniss are already married, the frown on Haymitch's face returns. They're in dangerous territory; Peeta must know that. No matter how much the audience empathizes with the star-crossed lovers, President Snow would never let the Games come to a stop.

"We give them one day off and this is what they come up with," he says to Effie. But even he has to give Peeta credit when the younger man becomes visibly upset, playing fully to the audience's sympathy. The camera turns to Katniss, who smiles sadly at the adoring crowd. The tears in her eyes look surprisingly real.

Caesar's next words, however, do not prepare the rest of Panem for the answer that they receive. "Surely even a brief time is better than no time?"

"Maybe I'd think that, too, Casear, if it weren't for the baby."

. . .

There are a few moments of absolute silence. Emotions ranging from astonishment to anguish wash over the crowd in seemingly slow motion, forcing their faces to contort into unnatural states of affliction. The cameraman can't decide who to capture, and the image switches wildly between Peeta, Katniss, and the citizens of the Capitol. Even Caesar, with his unflappable demeanor, has to adjust the look of shock on his face. When the crowd finally reacts, it is with a blinding wall of noise.

"Come on," Haymitch says to Effie, quickly grabbing her hand. He leads them away through the deafening screams and cries, walking faster and faster with each step until they're almost running.

"Haymitch," Effie shouts above the noise.

"We have to get out of here," he says behind him, just as the first note of the anthem begins to play. It's so loud that the ground shakes below them and they can feel each beat of the music inside their bodies. They reach the tunnel that connects to the Training Center. As they race toward the elevators, they catch glimpses of the victors joining hands on passing TV screens. Before they reach the end, the screens start to flicker off, one by one. The feed has been cut.

"What happened?" Effie asks, panting slightly. "The crowd—"

"I know," Haymitch replies.

"Do you think President Snow will do anything to Peeta and Katniss?"

"I don't know. Maybe. The Game starts tomorrow. He has better plans for them in the arena, so probably not. I don't know. Dammit. Peeta shouldn't've done that. He pushed too far."

They reach the first set of elevators and are about to hurry inside when a Peacekeeper appears before the doors, blocking their way.

"What's the problem?" Haymitch asks, forcing his voice to remain calm.

"Essential personnel only," the man in the white uniform says. "Escort, come with me." Haymitch is quicker than the Peacekeeper, and he steps in front of Effie before the other man can reach for her. "She's staying with me."

The Peacekeeper raises an eyebrow as his lips contort into a malicious grin. His fingers move to rest on the trigger of the assault rifle at his side. "Step away from her. This is your only warning."

Two other Peacekeepers emerge from behind him, with equally happy trigger fingers.

"Haymitch," Effie says behind him. "It's okay. Do as he says. I'll be okay."

Before he can answer, a door breaks open on the other side of the room and dozens of people stream into the Training center. They're headed for the far set of elevators. Haymitch catches a glimpse of Chaff and Finnick before they disappear into the crowd of shouting tributes and Peacekeepers.

Taking advantage of the distraction, the Peacekeeper nearest to Effie grabs her by the arm.

"Hey! You don't touch her," Haymitch says angrily. He moves toward the man, but two sets of hands are there to restrain him. The click of the two safeties simultaneously disengaging from their guns stops him in his steps.

He looks at Effie. He needs to tell her everything will be okay, because he doesn't know when he's going to see her again. He had always imagined their goodbye to be different, but there's no time. Instead, he says, "Remember what I said." Their secret conversation in her shower feels as if it happened days ago rather than yesterday morning.

"I will," she replies. "Remember your promise."

Haymitch nods. It's his way of saying he'll do the best to stay alive, to see her again. They have a few more precious seconds before the first guard leads Effie away, and Haymitch is left staring at the empty space of where she stood just moments ago.

"Where are you taking her?" he asks the Peacekeeper nearest him.

"Relax," the other man says. "All Capitol citizens are ordered to go home."

Haymitch sighs. He doesn't know if the Peacekeepr is lying, or if he's telling the truth and the truth is a lie, but it's better than nothing. At least for now, as least he can hope; Effie is safe.

. . .

The guard allows Haymitch into the elevator and he presses the button for level 12 until the doors shut. He leans against the metal interior, letting it support his weight. There's no time to waste. He needs to focus. He has to find Katniss and Peeta.

The three of them almost collide as the doors open. Haymitch hurries out of the elevator. "It's madness out there," he says. "Everyone's been sent home and they've canceled the recap of the interview on television."

The three of them move to the large window of the common room, and look down at hundreds of frantic people trying to navigate the gridlocked streets. Haymitch's eyes search desperately for a figure in an electric-yellow dress, but Effie is nowhere to be seen. When Peeta and Katniss ask about her, he makes an empty promise of giving her their thanks. His mind is racing in a thousand directions. He needs to find Plutarch to ask him about Effie, but he knows that it won't be possible. He can't risk the unscheduled contact now, with the Games beginning tomorrow.

When Peeta asks him if he has any last words of advice, he mutters the only thing that comes to mind. "Stay alive." As the words escape his mouth, he realizes that this could be the last time he sees either of them. Acting purely out of instinct, he gives each of them a hug.

When then break away and Peeta tells him to take care of himself, he almost loses it. Peeta. Katniss. Effie. He can't bear to say goodbye to the only three people that he truly cares about in the same night, but it's what he has to do. He touches the gold bangle around his left wrist, the silly team-building symbol that Effie gave him a few nights ago, and realizes it's the only thing he has of hers. Effie, wherever she is, would want him to go through with the plan, make sure Katniss, Peeta, and all of their allies get out of the arena alive. They've already crossed the room but the bangle gives him an idea, and he calls out Katniss' name.

"When you're in the arena…" he pauses, searching for his next words. She has to understand.

"What?" she asks.

"You just remember who the enemy is," he finally says.

She returns his gaze with a puzzled one, trying to decipher the message.

"That's all. Now go on. Get out of here."

He watches the two of them disappear from the room. The feeling of loneliness that clutches at him brings him back to the day he returned home a victor of the Fiftieth Games, to the death of his entire family. He looks down at the street one last time, searching for the same yellow dress that he knows isn't there. _Wait for me, Effie,_ he concentrates on the image of her in his mind and wills his message to reach her. _I'm coming back to you, I promise_.


End file.
